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At the mans words Amnur stands up to his full 4',8" height, drawing his heavy and worn flail as he does so and his face a mask of anger. Suddenly he whirls a complete 180 degree's, flail raised high to attack the Aspis scum which surely must be sneaking right behind them, "ROANOOOoooo...." His battle-cry dies on his bearded lips, as there doesn't seem to be anyone in sight. Turning back around and stowing his flail, he reaches into another pouch, rummaging for a bit before he retrieves his Pathfinder token, holding it high for the stranger to see, "Nobody here but us Pathfinder scum friend. Who might you be and what in Torags name happened here?"
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He squints as he examines Amnur and his token from a distance. Finally, he takes a few steps forward. "Pa... Pathfinders? here? Thank the gods! He drops his hands to his sides, and slips slowly to his knees, tears streaming down his face. He looks to the heavens and his voice catches in his throat as he speaks. "Thank you, by all that's holy..."
After a long moment, he takes a deep jagged breath, and speaks again. "I am called Varian, and what happened here was a horrible attack by apemen. They fought as if they were mad, with no more thought to their own survival than ours." He gestures to the battle site with one hand, and you can see what made his hands look odd - his fingers are long and thin, with six fingers. "I did what I could, but it was too little, I'm afraid. My healing abilities are so limited."
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The stranger takes reaches into his belt pouch and takes out his own Pathfinder token and displays it to the newcomers. "I, too, am a Pathfinder, though just newly commissioned. This was my first foray into the field, and I already I have failed." He stifles a sob as he looks at the devastation around him.
"We were attacked... by ape-men. I have to assume these are some kind of abominations sent by the consortium. Who else would attack us openly like this with such creatures?
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With an exagerated sigh, Shilyn returns the arrow to her quiver. "Darn.. and I so wanted to stick him for that remark.." she mutters. "Well, I guess that wouldn't look good to the society. Oh well."
Listening to Varian's discourse, she gives a shrug. "Well, let's see.. who's on our list of recent enemies.. Lady with lizard.. dead.. drug dealing bartender.. headed to sea..maybe. No one on our list used apes." With a giggle, she hops out of the wagon and walks toward the man, eyes still scanning the area, only this time for things of use or value.
"I'm Shilyn. You can call my Shi.. although I'm not really shy, that's just what people call me. Not sure why though.."
3 people have been healed to the point of transport, and have been stabilized.
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Amnur joins Shilyn, surveying the wreck of the field of battle, "These'r the first ape-things I've seen, and they do look ugly. It appears you've kept several from deaths door, you ought to take comfort in that. I'm surprised you weren't killed along with them, with just the knife for defense..." He lets his sentence trail off slowly, an unspoken question in his statement. "Oh yeah, Amnur's my name. I try to keep this lot out of trouble." as he's speaking he starts moving the injured into the carriage.
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"Shi... Amnur... a pleasure to meet you all.. I'm sorry about my initial greeting, I feared you were more attackers, and I'm weary of fighting."
He IS wearing a chain shirt, so he's not devoid of protection, just not, apparently, well-armed.
He begins transporting the wounded to the carriage with a nod of thanks to Amnur for his doing so as well, and offering through example to get them to safety and perhaps more healing.
"Where are you all going? If we are to take the wounded to safety, I should at least have some idea of where you're taking them."
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Amnur looks to the others, feeling ready to welcome this lone pathfinder into their midst, but a little hesitant to divulge all their plans. Then he looks down at the injured, still needing additional help, and shrugs internally, "We've got some supplies to take to the battle-front and you're welcome to come along."
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Varian looks around at the field of battle and the fallen and sighs. "There is nothing left to do here, and I have nowhere else to go. Thank you for the offer, I will come with you, Amnur, as long as your other companions have no objections." He smiles, looks at the others, hoping they all agree with the stout one.
If no one objects he walks over to a small pile of belongings - a pack with a bedroll attached - still no weapons - and shoulders it. "I'm ready."
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Leaving Amnur to help with the wounded, Shilyn makes her way through the bodies collecting any useful weapons and equipment and throwing them into the back of the wagon. "If we're going to relieve a siege, I'm sure they can use the extra weapons as well." she says as she drops an armload into the wagon.
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"Well, we just came from town," Shilyn says with a smirk. "It appears they like Amnur's diplomacy so much, they chased us to the outskirts hoping we'd stay. Can't say we liked their accommodations much."
Stopping for a moment, she points to the others in turn, "The other half-elf is Mylvwara. The Tiefling is Oriandor and the big one in the back is Flori."
Reaching inside her pack, she pulls out an apple and takes a bite. "Youf may wanna pick up one oof dem s'ords," she says around a mouthful and pointing to one of the blades she'd dropped in the wagon with her apple, "Neffer know when you'd need it."
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I cross my arms and huff in an over-the-top, deliberately comic manner, "Some people think we call her 'shy' because she isn't: an ironic juxtaposition, if you willl, like the circus strongman called Little Peter because he was so very large."
I raise an eyebrow and shake my head, "Others though, postulate that she is simply shy of some brain. Half-elf now, am I? And me with more than a century behind me..."
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Shilyn laughs heartily at Mylv's outburst as she turns to the newcomer. "As you can plainly discern, Mylv is indubitably the most even-tempered among us.. despite prevarication to provoke a reaction."
Shooting a smile at Mylv, Shilyn looks at the others. "Well, with the wounded and supplies, I wonder if we'll all fit in this wagon. Either way, we should probably be moving before those behind us catch up."
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Varian bites his lower lip in thought as he looks at the others, then chuckles at Shi's mistake and Mylvwara's reaction to it. He moves forward to introduce himself to Oriandor, and just smiles at him at first. Finally he speaks.
"I am Varian, a Pathfinder like yourselves, though a bit down on my luck it seems. These 'bodies' are survivors of the attack that took place here. They are all the ones I could save. I guess we are all traveling with you to relieve a siege and take supplies to the battlefront? I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but thankful for the offer."
He holds out a six-fingered hand to shake Oriandor's.in greeting.
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As bidden, Varian sits next to Flori in the now-crowded carriage. When Amnur speaks he gives a little half-smile and a shrug, covering one hand with the other, but not doing a very good job of hiding his deformity. "An accident of birth, I'm afraid. I try not to let it interfere with my life too much. Though for some reason, people keep trying to teach me how to play the lute and the harp, as if having them would give me an advantage. I'm afraid I have no musical talent whatsoever, though."
In an attempt to change the subject, he brings up the siege and asks, "So what is this place we are going to and who is attacking it?"
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"Yea, sure, welcome to the club." Oriandor stretches a bit, and dampens a cloth to clean some of the muggy sweat off his brow.
"Camp's an Azlanti dig site of sorts and the higher ups want to keep it stocked up. Not sure what the hell's causing 'em any trouble, although I wouldn't rule out the Aspis bastards."
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"Well, the consortium attacking an innocent archaeological site isn't outside the realm of believability. Especially if there is something to be found there. Of course it could just be Mwangi tribes upset over the intrusion into their territory too. Either way, it sounds like you're on a mission of relief. I'm so happy you found me. I will help you on your task, if you'll allow, and hopefully get a lift back to the city when you're done. I hope they have a healer at this site, as I have little left of my own abilities, and these poor souls," he indicates the survivors of the previous attack, "really could use more help."
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Amnur nods at Varians answer, his curiosity satisfied. Commenting on the music, Amnur says with the insight of the blind, "I've been told I have a 'singularly unique' voice. It's been known to draw a crowd oon occassion."
"From what we hear, it's akin to a battlefield, so I'd be surprised if they didn't have some sort of triage or whatnot when we get there." He lifts his foot suddenly at the cry of one of the survivors, unwittingly placing an armored boot on the poor mans hand and murmurs a quick apology, "It sure got cozy in this thing. So you're a healer and not a warrior then Varian?"
You climb ever higher out of the jungle, the series of thin
switchback trails just large enough for Raimondo’s caravan
wagons. Suddenly, from the canopy below comes an unearthly
bellowing roar. Thousands of colorful birds take flight and
wing off away from the noise, and a cacophony of screeching,
chittering, and screaming follows the roar.
As you approach the top of the ridge, a dilapidated camp
comes into view. The camp is surrounded by a hastily
constructed palisade wall forming a semi-circle that both starts
and ends at an imposing cliff face stretching hundreds feet up
from the palisade. The bodies of hundreds of ape-like creatures
lie outside the walls in various states of decay. The stench is
overpowering, and a cloud of flies is thick above the carnage.
A cry goes up from the tower built over the palisade’s gate as
the lookouts spot you, and the gate itself rumbles aside on
rickety wooden wheels. A tall woman with black hair pulled back
against her head and a shortsword on her hip strides out from
the camp to meet you.
At that moment, a horn sounds from down in the valley,
closely followed by the screams of men and horses. Looking
below, you see another group of Aspis Mercenaries, riding
fast up the switchback trails, with what looks like
hundreds of ape-men hurling stones at them and running
hard on their heels.
Quick, inside Pathfinders. Thank the gods you came! she says as she escorts you hurriedly inside a closing gate.
Welcome to jungle hell.
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A"I've been told I have a 'singularly unique' voice. It's been known to draw a crowd oon occassion."
Looking up from where she's sitting in the cramped wagon, Shilyn finishes refilling her quiver with some of the recovered arrows. "But what he's not telling you is that they were all armed and demanding that he stop," she says laughingly.
Her laughter is cut short was the carnage before them comes into view. "What the.." Her eyes quickly take in the scene before them. "Well, I guess this is where we earn our keep." The lightheartedness is gone from her voice, replaced by a tone of pure business.
Grabbing her bow, she sets an arrow to the string and continues to keep watch until the gates close behind the wagon.
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On the way there, Varian will point to the nice, obviously MW chain shirt, without even knowing it's magical plus, and comment "Just my size and style. Unless someone else wants it, anyone mind if I wear that - it's obiously nicer than my own." He gestures mildly toward his own ragged looking old chain shirt.
IF (and only if) no one objects, he wriggles out of his own chain shirt and changes into the new one.
As he sees the Aspis mercenaries hard pressed by ape men themselves, he reassesses his earlier comments, having thought the ape men were working somehow FOR the consortium themselves.
"Maybe I was wrong, eh?..."
He hops out of the carriage as it comes to a stop.
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When Shi makes light of his singing abilities Amnur just shuts the visor on this helm and glowers at her from its dark depths. When the shield is spotted Amnur hefts it and begins to look it over appreciatively, lips pursed. "This is a beauty! I'll be taking this is everyone's agreeable." he says as he replaced his old battered heavy shield with the newer, nicer, battered heavy shield. He also rearranges his weapons so he can wield his shield and dwarven waraxe, securing the heavy flail he usually favors to his secondary weapon spot.
Amnur hops the longish distance to the ground and approaches the tall woman who seems to be in charge. "Well met lady, some supplies and a handful of swords to help you. But a question, is it your intention to admit the Aspis serving wenches getting chased by those ape-things? Or leave them to their fate?"
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"If you have no cleric among you, I can certainly make use of the cure scroll should one of you be badly injured" He fumbles for a moment picking up the scroll, but he does eventually get a good grip on it, and slip it into his pouch."[/b]
Varian looks over at Amnur and then at the woman who seems to be the leader here. He mutters softly to himself, "It would be the nice thing to give them sanctuary here. It would be the safe thing to keep that palisade shut and locked. Which will she choose? And if they aren't Aspis abominations, who is sending these ape men on such rampages?"
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Well, well, a signal whistle.
"So, Varian, that's right, is it? I just... this might be a funny question... do you know a pathfinder called Inigo Montoya? Swordsman, moustache; from Molthune, I think..."
I nod grimly to the leader, "Spellmaster Zey sent us with supplies and a key which might be of use. We've picked up a few more weapons on the way."
I peer over the pallisade at the ape-men, "So, 'Silverback King' is not just an appellation. This Anghazan is a bigger problem than even the Aspsis Consortium." As they draw near, I nod at the Aspis agents, "Nobody should die like that."
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Varian gives Mylvwara a puzzled look and thinks back... then shakes his head slowly. "Nooo.. I don't know anyone by that name, I'm sorry.. should I?"
He turns to the leader and speaks, "We've also brought some wounded who need tending. I hope you have a healer or two here who can help them. I did what I could to staunch bleeding and keep the most wounded from death's door, but I'm afraid there's little more I can do for them today."
“Welcome to Azlant Ridge. I see you’ve met the locals.” She guestures to the ape men that are attacking the Apsis Consortium men trailing behind your group.
The lady has no intention of seeing "Aspis Scum" as she calls them in her city. They would love to get their hands on what we have discovered, she says. Only, you get the feeling that they don't really know what they have discovered, though. It seems like an ancient Azlanti door, which is weird, because the Azlanti weren't known to ever be in the Mwangi lands.
She leads you around the camp and while giving you :the grand tour" as she somewhat sarcastically calls it, answers any questions that you have. As you are lead around, you see starving and injured people in all directions. In fact, it isn't hard to see that Juliet herself is suffering from malnutrition herself.
The supplies and new arrivals (you) have given a vibrant step to the gaunt people of the camp, though. And they seem to be in good spirits for probably what is the first time in several months.
Everyone here is considered "wounded", she says with a sigh. "And yes, we treat them all. I will see that they are taken to the ward. She snaps a finger to two of her escorting men, and they take the men towards the larger end of the camp.
"When we heard you were coming we sent these men off to make sure that you got here safely. It looks like we did it in just the nick of time too. Although they sacrificed their lives to get you here, it is a good thing too. My people here are in bad shape and the supplies are much needed."
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Amnur bows his head in respect to the sacrifice of those who died so they could arrive, "Well we're here now, how can we help? Maybe we can start with a look at that door? Or perhaps try to trim the numbers of those ape-folks somewhat?" The dwarves hand rests on the handle of his axe, and he seems quite tuned in to the prospect of upcoming battle.
While they're walking he leans towards his companions, speaking in low tones so they wouldn't be overheard, "Torag's been bothering me more these last few nights, but apparently he's given me some extra 'divine assistance' as he calls it. He's big and slow, but sure can be helpful sometimes." He looks up to the sky with the same grin one might wear when gazing affectionately at a pet or a small child, and then continues to listen in as the Lady details their situation.
During the walkabout you talk about the ape men, and find out that they are known as the charau-ka. The camp workers call them ape-men, imaginateively enough. You are told they’re minions of the demon lord Angazhan, and that they serve the Gorilla King of Usaro, based on the markings.
You have heard a large ROAR down in the jungle from time to time as you were taking your tour. Juliet pretended to not hear you question the first time you asked it, and the second, she asked you not to draw attention to it, as it scares the site members to talk about it. Every time the charauka approach the camp, the ivory sphere we’ve partially uncovered glows bright enough to blind anyone sensitive to light—it’s just uncomfortable to look at the rest of the time. But when that roar gets closer… the light is different. It’s like it knows something about the source of the roar— something we should be very afraid of, I think. You were given a tour of the facilities, and recognize the sphere you saw earlier mentioned here. It was in a precise and professional terraced dig site and what looked to be a half-sphere of a smooth, almost mirror-like white material. While it looks almost exactly like polished ivory, it’s slightly warm to the touch and glows with a soft, white light. They say that any time the ape-men reach the camp fences, the sphere begins to glow brighter to the point it is blinding to look at.
You also saw an abandoned dig site that Juliet walked you by without saying anything.
You end your tour in front of the door with strange markings. At fifteen feet high and ten feet wide, this door is an impressive structure. Carved from a dull yet shimmering metal, every inch of its surface is covered in runes, glyphs, pictographs, and intricate patterns. A single rift, about an inch deep, splits the door in half from top to bottom, giving you the impression that it might open were it only to have handles. The door sits recessed several feet into the jagged rock of the ridge’s impressive cliff face, which stretches a hundred feet or more above the camp.
I haven't the faintest idea how to open it. I wish that I did.
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Fascinated with the orb, Varian reaches out to touch it and confirm its warmth. "Have the charauka ever breached the palisade? Just curious what the orb might do if they got THAT close. I wonder if it senses them somehow as friend or enemy? Perhaps it's some kind of protective device?"
At the door, Varian looks at the others, wondering if perhaps any mages among them would have a knock spell... Since noone has yet come forward volunteering, he is assuming the answer would be 'no'.
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Amnur keeps his head on a swivel during the tour, noting the abandoned trenches Mylvi was asking about and liking Varians idea of bringing a charau-ka closer to the glimmering sphere to see what happened. He found himself feeling akin to being between the anvil and the hammer, as his people said. Out in the jungle were demon ape-men and a unknown beast with a propensity for howling, and in here with artifacts of unknown power capable of blinding them and who-knows-what else. He looks at their guide and then back to the large door, "Has anyone tried knocking?" he asks, fingering the hilt of his flail speculatively.
"What did you find in the abandoned trenches?"
Nothing! Just an empty dig site..."she says very quickly. A little too quickly, maybe.
Amnur keeps his head on a swivel during the tour, noting the abandoned trenches Mylvi was asking about and liking Varians idea of bringing a charau-ka closer to the glimmering sphere to see what happened. He found himself feeling akin to being between the anvil and the hammer, as his people said. Out in the jungle were demon ape-men and a unknown beast with a propensity for howling, and in here with artifacts of unknown power capable of blinding them and who-knows-what else. He looks at their guide and then back to the large door, "Has anyone tried knocking?" he asks, fingering the hilt of his flail speculatively.
Yes, she says chuckling at the dwarf. We have tried knocking, tried the "knock" spell. As far as my best magic people can tell me, it needs some sort of magical insert to buff off the strong barrier, but we aren't sure what that would be.
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Take it there aren't any faction missions then? Just wondering for the sake of helping form some interactions.
Oriandor does a good job hiding his distaste for the current situation. He was expecting a quick return home out of the damp jungle, not a camp besieged by potentially demonic primates.
He wanders around the camp, tail flicking away flies as it can, eventually reaching the large door and eavesdropping in on the conversation.
A magical insert 'eh? I wonder..., he mutters to himself, pondering the woman's statement.
Since I know how this adventure goes, that'll be my rationale on figuring out the next step if no one else comes to the conclusion within a reasonable amount of time :) Otherwise, will wait and let the rest of the group have some fun doing their things first.
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Squinting at the woman when she seems off about the empty dig site, Amnur decides to call on his god for a little assistance. Muttering a quick, but heartfelt prayer, he concentrates on their guide for a short while.
Once that's concluded he'll concentrate on the artifacts around camp, the door, the sphere and a few workers.